


Misguided Notions

by fourteenlines



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward First Times, Book Character in Show Canon, F/M, First Time, Fix-It of Sorts, Morning After, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourteenlines/pseuds/fourteenlines
Summary: “You’re avirgin,” Tyrion says, eyes narrowed in victory for a moment before the laughter at the table dies.Brienne freezes, and Jaime freezes, and evenTyrionfreezes.  But Addam, bless him, just snorts into his cup and says, “They call herThe Maid of Tarth, Tyrion, that’s hardly a triumphal deduction.”Working title:  “Addam Fixes Everything,” although that’s probably overstating things a bit.I've had to admit to myself that I guess this story isn't as done as I thought it was.  Note the rating change.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 101
Kudos: 283





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the book characters who never made it to screen, Addam Marbrand is one I miss most. Jaime could have used someone in his life who wasn’t family/a mercenary/traumatized/an asshole/all of those things. Maybe some things would have gone differently if Addam were there. Here’s one thing.
> 
> (Yes, that's a reference to the show "Adam Ruins Everything" - well spotted, you!)

“You’re a _virgin_ ,” Tyrion says, eyes narrowed in victory for a moment before the laughter at the table dies.

Brienne freezes, and Jaime freezes, and even _Tyrion_ freezes.Jaime opens his mouth to say something that Brienne is sure will not help the situation in the slightest.But Addam, bless him, just snorts into his cup and says, “They call her _The Maid of Tarth_ , Tyrion, that’s hardly a triumphal deduction.It’s barely a _guess._ ”

Relief washes over Brienne as the attention turns to Addam, sitting at Jaime’s right, across from a sleeping Pod.Tyrion says primly, “An appellation doesn’t count as proof.”

“It would be like guessing Jaime had killed a king.Besides which —“

“How did _I_ get dragged into this?” Jaime protests.

“ _Besides which_ ,” Addam persists, “Brienne is an unmarried high-born lady.It’s impolite to suggest otherwise.”

“We’re being polite now?” Tyrion asks.

“I’m not a _lady_ ,” Brienne says through her teeth.

“In this context, you are,” Addam says simply.

“I don’t need you to come to my rescue!”

“I’m not trying to _rescue you_ , for sevens’ sake _._ ”

“Defend me, then, whatever you want to call it.”

“Do you want to dispute it?Set the record straight?”

“I…well… _no_ , but—“

“I knew it!”

“ _Shut up,_ Tyrion,” Jaime hisses.

“I’m not trying to defend you, Brienne, I’m trying to accuse Tyrion of cheating,” Addam says, laughing.

Tyrion _gasps_ in what cannot be genuine outrage and says, “I _never_ cheat!”

Jaime throws back his head and laughs until tears start leaking from his eyes.“You _always_ cheat!”

Pod rouses from his stupor at Jaime’s bark of laughter and sleepily asks, “Who cheats?”

“Tyrion,” Brienne says.

“Oh.He does.Told me that someone like him needs to ‘seize every advantage’ or he’ll never get…ahead.”Pod lays his head back down on the table and starts to snore.

“ _Traitor_ ,” Tyrion mutters.

Jaime, eyes alight, leans forward.“Let me tell you about the first time Tyrion beat our father at cyvasse.”

Tyrion groans as Jaime launches into a story that is as entertaining as it is improbable.The game abandoned, Brienne sits back to enjoy watching Jaime.Apparently being a cheat is worse than being a maid, so perhaps there’s no harm done.

Later, Addam regales them with a story about the first time _he_ beat _Jaime_ at a sword fight, which Jaime is _not happy about,_ but that Brienne appreciates immensely.He’s winding down when Brienne excuses herself to the privy.When she comes back, a different mood has fallen over the room.

The fight hasn’t been over for long, considering how long they’d been anticipating it.They’re all still running on the fuel from fear and relief and victory, but as the feast winds down, they’re winding down with it.Brienne has barely slept in a sennight and she thinks that after all the wine she had tonight, she might sleep for days.But while she can feel the pull of exhaustion, she’s not quite ready to retire yet.She sits again and lets Tyrion refill her cup.

Brienne hums in satisfaction and the four of them sit quietly, listening to the murmur of other conversations in the room.Pod stirs in his sleep.Brienne looks at the three men sitting across from her, who’ve all become important to her in some way. 

Tyrion she barely knows, but he’s Jaime’s brother and that means something.Addam she met briefly in Kings Landing, but she knows him better now, and with his easy manners she’s come to like him as well as respect him.And Jaime…well.Well.Nothing she can say could possibly describe the way she feels about Jaime. 

She runs her thumb over the rim of her cup, and her faint smile goes distant.The game was amusing, until it wasn’t.But there’s something she hasn’t set straight, an unspoken assumption that is utterly wrong, and it’s nagging at her.

Addam looks up from a murmured conversation with Jaime, and looks concerned.“Brienne?Is something wrong?”

“I’m not _ashamed_ ,” she says, and the others look at her in varying degrees of confusion.“Jaime lost his hand protecting me from being raped.So.It’s not a _joke_.It’s…important to me.”

Jaime’s mouth is open in protest before she even finishes.“Brienne…” he says, but seems at a loss for what to say next.

Tyrion says quietly, “You never told me that.”

Addam, on the other hand, won’t meet her eye, and she wonders what Jaime told him after Riverrun.

Jaime shakes his head, and says, “I lost my hand because I was an arrogant ass who didn’t know when to leave well enough alone.”

“ _Was?_ ” Addam says under his breath.

Brienne casts him a glance that says she would be amused if it weren’t so serious.“You were defending my honor and my life when I’d never given you a reason to do anything other than hate me.If you’d kept your mouth shut about the sapphires, you’d still have your hand.”

“Sapphires?” Tyrion asks, but Jaime waves him off, a silent ‘ _another time.’_

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” he says, and Brienne suddenly thinks she might cry.If she does, she’s blaming it on the Others.

“Now, maybe.It’s easy to say that in hindsight.After we’ve become…” she trails off, unable to find a word that takes in the depth and breadth of them.Jaime looks similarly rattled.

Addam gently suggests, “Friends?”

Brienne meets his eye, gives a tiny nod.“Friends.But at the time?When we were still enemies?”

“I couldn’t stand by and listen to another woman being raped!” Jaime hisses, and the entire table recoils.

Brienne looks at him a long time, turning over in her mind the things she knows about him.Opening her mouth to draw breath feels like an enormous effort.“You told me to…to go away inside.Is that…?”

Jaime’s jaw clenches and he stares into his cup.He nods, once, tersely.“That’s part of it.”

Her heart sinks to think of Jaime as he must have been once, before the Kingsguard, as both Tyrion and Addam knew him, and it perplexes her that they don’t see how he must have changed.She murmurs, “Do they know about Aerys?”

Jaime meets her eye again.“They do now.”Brienne nods.There’s a thread strung between them, refusing to let them look away.She doesn’t think she’s so much as blinked.“Not — you were the first one I told.”The shadow of someone he didn’t tell lurks at the edge of his statement.

Brienne thinks she’s ceased to _breathe,_ maybe her heart has even ceased the beat, the stillness is that profound.Then, like a crash of absurd lightning, Addam yawns melodramatically and says, loud enough to wake the dead, “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m going to turn in.Tyrion, why don’t you help me get Pod to bed.He’ll be no use tomorrow if he can’t turn his head from sleeping on a table.”

It’s the most ludicrously transparent excuse she’s ever heard, but Tyrion seems not to care.He stands, while Addam rouses Pod by the shoulder and says, “Pod, my boy, time to get you into a nice soft bed.”

Pod sits up and yawns hugely, making the contrast between this and Addam’s earlier theatrics all the more clear.“My bed is made of straw,” he grumbles.

Addam is undeterred.“Time to get you into a terrible poky bed, then,” he says, and guides him by the shoulder out of the hall, Tyrion trailing behind.He casts an unreadable look back at them before he rounds the corner.

Brienne watches them go, then ventures a glance around the room.They’re not the only ones left at the feast, but it’s a near thing.She wonders if any of the stragglers know what time it is.No one is near enough to ask.

“Brienne,” Jaime says, demanding her attention.She swallows a nervous lump and turns back to him. 

“Brienne, tell me you haven’t been saving your maidenhead out of some misguided notion about owing it to my blessed _hand._ ”

Her mouth is so dry, her tongue clicks when she opens it.She wets it with a swallow of wine and says, “In truth, it’s unlikely I still have my maidenhead.My septa always said I’d break it before my wedding night by fighting or riding too fast, and the only reason my husband wouldn’t think I’d played him false was that I was too ugly.”

Jaime shakes his head impatiently.“Your _metaphorical_ maidenhead, then.”After a considering moment, he says, “Your septa was a cunt, by the way.”

Brienne smiles grimly.“She was that, but she also wasn’t _wrong_ , Jaime.I haven’t been _saving_ my maidenhead, metaphorical or otherwise, for anything.Saving implies it was at any point likely to be spent.”

“What are you saying?”

The wine makes her blunt.“I’m saying no one wanted to fuck me, Jaime.” _Not for any reason that would make_ me _want to follow through_ , she does not add.She grits her teeth and forces herself to meet his eye.She knows her face is stained red by the heat radiating from it, and while that may ruin the image of cool unconcern she’s trying to project, she clings to it anyway.

But it’s as if she hasn’t just shared her deepest, darkest, and most obvious secret.Jaime leans back and smirks.“Well now that is just not true.”

“ _Don’t tease me._ ”

“I’m not!You and I both know you could have had that fucker Tormund inside of you thirty seconds after he arrived, or on demand at any time since.”He pauses, reflecting, and amends, “Probably not _while_ we were fighting the army of the dead, but—“

“ _Jaime!”_ Brienne’s face is scalding now, bright scarlet for certain.The least flattering of her many ugly blushes.It’s too much — she covers her face with her hands.“I can’t believe you!”

Her outburst must be loud enough to attract the attention of the others lingering in the hall, for the low sounds of surrounding conversations go silent.The only noise is the crackling of the fire, and Brienne lowers her hands to look.Sure enough, the other occupants of the room are staring, some more blatantly than others.Clegane is in the corner, glowering.

Jaime says, “Perhaps we should continue this elsewhere.”

Brienne wants to suggest they need never continue it at all, but she’s not a coward, and they may as well lance the wound now rather than let it fester.She nods.“My chambers?”

Jaime looks thunderstruck for a moment, but it’s not possible for her to feel any more flustered than she is already.“Don’t you share with Tyrion?” she points out.

Jaime nods.“Always so practical. Your chambers it is,” he says, and stands to lead the charge out of the room.She squirms to realize that he knows the way.On impulse, she captures the flagon of wine before she follows.

When they reach her door, he moves to the side to wait for her to open it.It’s a relief in a way — she can think of fewer things that would feel more intimate in this moment than Jaime casually letting himself into her bedroom.She opens the door to a chill in the air and curses herself.She’s stayed away longer than she thought, and the fire has died down. 

Brienne sets the wine on the table and quickly moves to tend the hearth.She hears the door close behind her as she’s bent over adding a few pieces of kindling, which quickly catch the remaining flames.She stirs them with the poker and waits for the blaze to grow.She watches the sparks fly up and listens to the cracking of the wood.She can feel Jaime’s eyes on her.

But he waits. Now that they’re here, he seems content to wait.She’s not stalling, she reasons with herself.They’ll freeze if she doesn’t get the fire going.Finally she judges that it’s burning steadily, and adds a log large enough to last the night.

She turns back to Jaime to find him offering a cup of wine.She’s never had this much wine in one night; it’s possible she’s never had this much wine _in her entire life_ , but it’s not as if fighting the dead and _then_ having to have a serious conversation with Jaime Lannister weren’t enough to warrant it.She accepts and takes a healthy swallow.She doesn’t want to think about how she’ll feel tomorrow.Tomorrow seems a long way off.

He drinks, and she wishes he would speak but he doesn’t.He’s looking at her the way he did — how long ago was that?Two nights?Four?A lifetime? — the way he did the night she knelt before him and he fulfilled a dream she’d barely allowed herself to want.She can hear his words as clearly as when he’d spoken them. _Rise, Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the seven kingdoms._

He’d charged her to be brave.Bravery, she thinks, is not just for the battlefield.Brienne sets her cup on the mantel and draws a breath.“Jaime,” she says, her voice on the verge of choking, “Perhaps I _was_ saving it.For you.If you want it.”

Jaime frowns.“It?”

She huffs.Of course he can’t make this _easy._ She takes up her cup again and drinks.“My… _metaphorical_ maidenhead.”

His eyes grow wide and she has to turn away.Tears prick her eyes.“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he asks.His voice is closer than before.

“Shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Brienne,” he murmurs, from closer still.“Brienne, look at me.”She refuses, and he says again, “Brienne,” his voice as gentle and fond as she’s ever heard it.

She turns and takes an immediate step back — he’s so close it makes her heart leap into her throat.He takes an answering step forward and she steps back again, and so on, a conversation without words, until she fetches up against the warm wall next to the hearth.He’s barely more than a handsbreadth from her, and the air grows close between them.She feels dizzy, her breath hitching.

Jaime looks _terrified_ , and somehow that makes her feel…better, actually?That she’s not the only one who doesn’t know what to do with this monumental thing between them.They stand there, breathing in what the other breathes out.She waits.She’s taken her risk.It’s Jaime’s turn.

She can see the resolve firm in his eyes.He sets his cup on the mantel, and then takes hers from nerveless fingers to do the same.He swallows loud enough for her to hear.He leans closer, so close she can’t look directly at him.Her eyes slide half-closed.If he doesn’t do anything else soon she thinks she might be sick.

“Brienne,” he breathes, “can I kiss you?”

She nearly breaks down into helpless laughter but manages to nod instead.Jaime carefully places his hand on the wall beside her head, then closes the last little distance between them to fit his mouth to hers.

She gasps, but he doesn’t press his advantage, just moves his lips gently against hers, coaxing an answer from her, a call and response that volleys between them.Brienne makes another sound, lower, more satisfied, and he _does_ act then, rolls his tongue against hers, and Brienne feels giddy.

He tastes bitter and sweet, like the aftertaste of wine, overlaid with something that Brienne is startled to realize is just _Jaime_.She keens, opens her mouth wider, and lets the liquid heat wash over her.

His hand is still on the wall beside her, and hers are at her side.Close as their bodies are, their mouths are their only point of contact.Jaime moves his other arm, makes to lay hold of her hip, and his metal hand _clanks_ against the wall.

They break apart, both laughing, Brienne fondly, Jaime with a slightly hysterical edge.She longs to calm that agitation, and without thinking she brings her hands up and grasps hold of his golden one.

Their laughter dies as they both look between them, at this…symbol, she supposes.Whatever he says, she feels like he did this for _her_ , a gift so boundless she’ll never receive another like it.She runs her fingers along the cuff, the straps holding it in place.Jaime goes absolutely still.

She looks up at him.“May I?”He stares at her but finally manages a nod.She carefully picks at the fastenings, guiding the leather smoothly through the buckles while supporting the weight of his hand against her forearm.The last strap slides free and Jaime releases a forceful sigh as the socket comes loose and she pulls the apparatus away.

Brienne moves past him to set the hand on the table.She turns back to find Jaime massaging his wrist, and she reaches out for him.He hesitates, but lets her take the end of his wrist in her hands, gently following the criss-cross path of angry red lines with her fingers.

Jaime hisses.“Did I hurt you?” Brienne asks, and he shakes his head.

“It’s…no one touches it.I’m not used to it.”

Brienne stills, and looks up at him.“No one…?” she asks delicately.

The moment stretches and finally he shakes his head and says, so faintly she almost has to strain to hear, “She wouldn’t.”

It’s unfair.He deserves so much more.She steps into him and brings his wrist to rest against her cheek, and tells him so.

He captures her mouth again at that, slowness forgotten, molding his body to hers and tumbling her down onto the bed.They fall so hard she thinks it might split in two.

Brienne yelps, and he breaks away a moment to murmur against her mouth, “Sorry, misjudged how far the bed was,” and Brienne think it more likely that he misjudged how much she weighs, but she lets it go.She kisses him this time, and he responds in kind, and they spend what feels like hours lost in each other.

Eventually Jaime breaks aways with a groan.“Brienne, Brienne, Brienne,” he says, face buried in her shoulder, and she clutches at his back in alarm. 

“What?Did I do something?”

“No!No,” he says, shifting against her as he pulls back to look her in the eye.“Brienne,” he says again, and she still feels lost.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighs.“Brienne, I’ve had a _lot_ of wine tonight.”

She frowns.“Yes?So have I.My judgement is sound regardless.”

He shakes his head.“I’m glad to hear that, but you’re not understanding.”He rolls his body against hers, pointedly, as if it’s an answer.She grunts and pushes back.He does it again and finally she understands what he’s getting at.

“Oh, you’re not…Am I not…?”A bitter jolt of shame shoots through her, at the folly of thinking that he desired her.

“ _Hardly_ ,” he says, rushing to reassure her.“Sometimes…sometimes a lot of strong drink makes it impossible to…”

“To…?”

“Uh, rise to the challenge.So to speak.”

She stares at him until the realization hits, and she feels her face heat.“Oh!”She feels keyed up and a little adrift.She smooths his hair away from his face.“I see,” she says quietly.

He drops another kiss on her mouth and says, “It will pass, but…not for awhile.”

“Till morning?” She asks.

“At least.”

“Well,” she says slowly, “I suppose you’d better stay till morning, then.”

Jaime groans and leans in to kiss her again, and they stay like that, trading kisses and then drifting away to doze off, only to rouse and repeat the cycle again and again.

Finally, an hour or so after dawn, Jaime wakes her with more insistent kisses, and the first thing she notices is that the affects of strong drink seem to have worn off.She clasps his face in her hands as he hovers over her, touching her in more intimate ways than she’d ever let herself imagine.Jaime pulls away, and she frowns, but he only throws off the furs and goes to the hearth to add another log to the fire.Something in her gut quakes at the sight of it, for reasons she’d rather not examine.The chill in the air creeps in under the bedcovers.

Next, Jaime goes to the table.Bypassing the flagon of wine for one she keeps there of water, he pours two cups and hands her one.They both drink deeply and Brienne realizes how thirsty she is.

Finally Jaime takes her cup and lays them both on the table, and as he turns back to her he peels out of his shirt.Brienne’s breath quickens.His hand falls to the fastening of his breeches, and he looks at her, a question with only one answer.She sits up and reaches for him, undoes the ties herself, then settles back to see what happens next.

Jaime slides the cloth down his hips, leaving him finally bare.He looks at her and touches himself, a challenge, and Brienne’s eyes go wide.Slowly, so slowly, she grasps the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, not breaking eye contact until the fabric obstructs her view.She shivers, but only as the cold air hits her skin.Her heart is racing but it’s not out of unease.She stretches her hand out to him.

Jaime grins and stalks back to join her in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I think we all know that many parts of Season 8 were trash.
> 
> Aside from a brief foray into CXG in 2018, I haven't written fanfic since...uh... *checks notes* the year of our lord TWO THOUSAND AND NINE. I feel like an ancient titan risen from the sea. I'm not 100% sure why I never wrote any GOT fanfic in all the years I was watching the show _and reading fanfic for it,_ only to suddenly bleed out 3600 words in twelve hours, but I suspect her name begins with a "C" and ends with a "Rona."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning(ish) after.

Brienne startles awake, something breaking through her heavy sleep.Beside her, Jaime stirs as well, and she stares for a moment, thinking, _Right, so, that wasn’t a dream._ He catches her eye and smiles, and she feels the corners of her mouth turning up helplessly when there’s an insistent knock on the door.A second knock, apparently.She props herself up on her elbow, alarmed, glance darting between Jaime and the door.

“M’lady — er — Ser?” comes Pod’s muffled voice.

Jaime starts _laughing_ , of all things, and she glares at him while she claps her hand to his mouth.“ _Would you keep it down?_ ” she whispers.

Another knock, even louder this time.“Ser Brienne?”

She clears her throat, “Uh, yes, Pod?”Jaime starts _wrestling_ with her, trying to get his mouth uncovered, but she’s got determination.And double the hands.

“Oh, good!You’re awake.”

Jaime manages to pry his mouth free enough to mutter, “No thanks to you,” before she seals it shut again.

“Ser?Is something amiss?”Poor Pod, he sounds worried.

“No, Pod, everything is fine.Why?”Jaime has settled, and she fixes him with a glare and mouths, _behave,_ as she takes her hand away.

“It’s just, it’s nearly time for the mid-day meal, Ser, and I wanted to make sure you were feeling all right.”

Brienne glances wide-eyed at the window — it is indeed quite late.She’s been given the day off, but she hadn’t intended to spend the entire day abed.

“Thank you Pod, but I’m feeling well.I just had a lot of wine last night.”

“Can I get you anything?I could bring you a tray with —“

“ _Go away, Podrick!”_ Jaime calls out, and Brienne gasps and dives to cover his mouth again, too little too late.She barely registers Pod’s quickly-retreating _Oh_ while Jaime shakes with hilarity and Brienne, defenseless against an actually _happy_ Jaime, feels laughter bubbling up from within.

“What are you _doing_?” she manages to get out.Jaime _licks_ her palm, then when she pulls her hand away in outrage, captures it again to press a kiss to it.

“I should think,” he says, as he places kisses in a line down her arm, “that was obvious.”His mouth moves over her wrist and toward the thin skin on the inside of her elbow.

Brienne pulls her arm away.“Don’t think you can just do _that_ every time you want to distract me.”

“I’d never,” he says, all wide-eyed and too innocent.

She narrows her eyes and digs her elbow into his side.“You ass, now they’re all going to _know_!”

He moves to block her, scuffling with her again under the bedcovers.“I can assure you that Addam and Tyrion already know,” he says, a glint in his eye.

“What? _How_?”

“We’ve already missed breakfast, and Addam’s not _stupid._ And Tyrion — well, you said it yourself, I share a room with Tyrion.A room which I did not come back to last night.”

She stills, staring at him as the truth of what he’s said washes over her.She groans and buries her face in the pillows.

After a few moments, Jaime asks, “Did…do you want this to be a secret?”

 _Of course I do_ , she almost says.She’s not ashamed of _this_ either, but it’s…private.It belongs to _them_ and no one else.But something in Jaime’s voice stops her, and a second later she realizes her mistake.

She lifts her head to look at him, and she sees the prickle of uncertainty on his face.“No!” she rushes to assure him.She smooths his hair back from his brow, combs her fingers through it and cups his cheek.“No, you’re right, I don’t want it to be a secret.”There are bound to be some disapproving stares, but it’s not as though Brienne hasn’t had a lifetime of _those._ He hauls her closer and kisses her.Brienne shivers.When she does it _again_ , a moment later, she realizes it’s because she’s _cold._

Brienne pulls away, Jaime following to kiss her again.“One second,” she says, climbing over him to get to the fire.He runs his hand down her flank as she passes and she shudders, not from the cold this time.She briefly considers finding something to cover up in, but he certainly knows what her body looks like by _now,_ so she just tosses another log into the hearth and dives back for the warmth of the bed.

Jaime grabs her hips as she passes and settles her against his chest, rather than beside him.She inhales sharply.Before yesterday, she’d never felt so much of someone else’s skin against hers.It’s going to take some getting used to.She bites her lip and shifts, presses against him _everywhere_. “Again?” she asks, a bit surprised.

“If you like,” he says, voice mild and agreeable, but she can see his eyes starting to dilate.

“What about what _you_ like?”

He rolls his hips against hers and says, “I think you can feel what I’d like.”His fingers are sliding lower, but he pauses to peer up at her.He says seriously, “Nothing you don’t want, Brienne.”

She huffs and lowers her face toward his.“If you think I haven’t wanted this,” she says against his mouth, “you are very mistaken.”

+++

They end up being late to supper.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to supper, and remembers what came before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for radical tense shifts. Really earning the "awkward sex" tag here.

Brienne bundles him out the door when they decide to go eat with the others.The loaf of bread and couple of apples Brienne had stashed away only tided them over for so long.“Go _change_ , Jaime,” she says, removing his hand from her side and shoving him through the doorway over his protests.“I’ll meet you in the hall.”Before anyone can walk by and see her dressed only in a shift, she shuts the door in his stupid, smirking, handsome face.

“Be quick,” she hears him say, and then his footsteps echo down the corridor and Brienne sinks back against the door.Her eyes fall on the rumpled rug next to the bed and a jolt of heat zings through her, remembering _Jaime on his knees, his face buried between —_

Brienne presses a hand to her face and groans.Only Jaime Lannister could turn the Maid of Tarth into a sex fiend in less than a day’s turn.

_“Trust me,” he said in her ear, “you need to be ready.”_

_“I am ready,” she protested, but he shook his head, his gaze a heart-stopping mix of hunger and affection._

_“Not mentally prepared.You need to be ready…here.”His hand slid lower and she —_

Brienne shakes herself and sets her jaw.Enough of that.It’s time for supper.Past time, in fact.She washes quickly, dresses in a fresh set of clothes, and tends the fire.She hesitates for a moment with her hand on the door latch, some part of her wanting to curl up and just give herself time to ruminate on what has happened — but no.If she did that, she might never stop.She sets off for the main hall.

The first person who catches her eye as she walks in is, _oh gods_ , Sansa, who shoots her a sly look that tells her the Lady of Winterfell is not unaware of the doings in her fasthold.Brienne feels conspicuously late, but in truth even Sansa’s eyes slide away after a moment to laugh at something Arya has said.No one else in the hall seems to pay her much mind.

She makes her way to the serving table, looks down at the spread of food and suddenly realizes she’s _starving_.She’s spooning a heap of hash onto her plate when she feels someone at her back, and she _knows_ it’s Jaime.

He appears at her side and starts serving himself.It’s a bit more of a production — he’s got to make sure the plate is well-balanced on the crowded table before he can reach for a utensil — so when Brienne chooses her next dish, she meets his eye with a question, and at his nod she spoons up some for him as well.They continue for a few moments in silence, and then Jaime says, “You were quick.”

“Yes,” she says, matching his unruffled tone.

“I thought you might not be.”

She catches his eye over a dish of greens, and holds it a moment after he nods.“No,” she says, scooping a serving onto his plate.“We said it wasn’t a secret.” 

She’d thought he was relaxed, but at this his shoulders lower into an easy posture, and she realizes that he had been bluffing.

Jaime grins and turns to the room, taking a deep breath as if he’s about to shout.Brienne clutches at his arm.“There’s no need to make an _announcement_ ,” she hisses, caught between dismay that he’ll think she’s taking it back and alarm at what he might actually _do_ , but he starts laughing and she realizes he was just having her on.

“Funny,” she says drily.

“Yes, it was,” he agrees, still laughing.

She rolls her eyes and stalks off toward their usual table.

There are only two seats left, one to either side, and not quite across from one another.Brienne rounds the far side to take a place next to Podrick, so Jaime is already seated one down next to Addam, drinking from a cup he’s just poured, when she drops onto the rigid bench and is _abruptly_ reminded that this has been far from a normal day.

_“You know,” she said, faux-conversationally, “if you’d just broken my arm, I could have pushed through it.”_

_“If_ **_I’d_ ** _broken your arm?”Jaime sounded breathless, with an edge of indignation.She still couldn’t look.It was too much; she needed the darkness._

_“If my arm had been broken, then.Happy?”_

_“No.Brienne, you need to relax.”_

_“Easy for_ **_you_ ** _to say!”Her eyes snapped open and she quaked at the way Jaime was looking up at her, eyes half-desperate and his face almost pained with the tension of holding back.The morning sun picked out all of his gorgeous details — the fine hairs on his face, brows and lashes, the stray strands brushing his forehead; the beautiful ridge of his nose; the column of his throat, corded with effort; the cut line of the muscles in his arms — which led to the bristle of gooseflesh scattered across her thighs…_

_Her eyes fell on the singular sight of the place where they met, where they were — oh gods, barely — joined, and she felt punched in the gut.“We should have done this in the dark,” she gasped._

_“Never.”Jaime growled, and his fingers flexed on her hip._

_“Never?” she said, half laughing.“Not ever?”She braced her hands against his taut belly and tried again to just press downward, but it was so — not painful, but — pinched, and — “I can’t,” she gasped.“It won’t…”She felt tears of frustration starting to sting at her eyes._

_“Let me help you,” Jaime said, then slowly licked his thumb and ran it up her tender flesh.Her eyes slammed shut and she tensed all over, and when the shudder passed, she slipped that much further down onto him.He grunted, satisfied with his result.“Better?More?”_

_A shivery mess of pleasure shot through her, and she nodded.“Yes,” she said, deep in her throat.“Yes, more.”_

Jaime chokes on his wine and Brienne snaps back to the present. 

Addam is pounding on his back.Jaime’s looking at her wild-eyed and not subtle at _all_ , and she thinks suddenly that it’s a good thing she doesn’t want to keep it a secret, because it’s perfectly clear that would have been _impossible_.A thought creeps up her spine, unworthy but satisfying, that he can’t hide the way he feels about _her_ , unlike —

She clears her throat and placidly eats a bite of meat.

Tyrion, the little shit, is smiling delightedly at them from his spot to Addam’s other side.“Do you two have something you’d like to share?” he asks.

“ _Tyrion_ ,” Jaime says warningly, still clearing his throat.

“Yes,” Brienne says.She’s well past tired of people laughing at her choices, like her entire life is a farce for others’ amusement.She takes a sip of water and tries to brazen it out.“Jaime and I spent the night together.” 

The table goes quiet.

Jaime looks completely awestruck.“You…said we didn’t need to make an announcement,” he says slowly, his voice rough.

“Well, not to the _entire room_.”She can’t think of any better way to show him that she doesn’t mean to hide, and if it takes the wind out of Tyrion’s sails, so much the better.Her heart is racing but for once in her life, by the grace of who knows which god, she’s not blushing.

Addam clears his throat and says, “You’re…saying you —“

“Yes,” Brienne says. 

“I see.”

“We’ll probably do it again tonight.”

Jaime’s face morphs into — there’s no other word for it — a pout.“Probably!”

She shrugs, half a performance for the rest of them.“I didn’t want to presume.”

“ _Presume,_ ” he growls.

She tilts her head, considering.“All right.”She turns back to her plate only to find Tyrion staring at her, entirely confounded.She raises an eyebrow and thinks, _Score one to Brienne._ She pointedly draws a bite off her fork.

“Well,” Addam says, cutting a glance at Jaime that clearly conveys, _We’re going to talk about this._

She realizes that all three men across from her — even Jaime! — are varying degrees of shocked.Podrick, on the other hand, catches her eye and smiles, looking downward, almost conspiratorial.

She remembers what Addam said about highborn maids, a lifetime ago, last night: _It’s impolite to suggest otherwise_.But “the Maid of Tarth” was always half a jest.Brienne has had to force a place in the world for herself, because the world had no place for her.For some women, their reputation was all they had, and it needed to be guarded closely.Few of them could do what Brienne has done, live by her sword and choose her destiny for herself.Some women had no prospects other than making a good marriage, and those are the women the likes of the Lannisters are used to.

Pod, whose family have served lords but never been lords themselves, has a different perspective.

“You’re well?” he murmurs to her.

“Oh yes,” she responds, and he nods, appeased.

Tyrion tips his glass to her, acknowledging the score.The conversation flows on to something else.

Something, namely, being the large green object Podrick has on his plate, that both he and Tyrion regard with skepticism.

“What in the world _is_ that thing, Pod?” Tyrion asks.It’s scaly and about the size of a fist.

“I don’t know,” Pod says, “but it was the last one and I thought I’d try it.”He pokes at it and withdraws his hand fast.“Ow!It has spikes!”

“Your supper isn’t supposed to bite you back,” Jaime jokes.

Addam is peering at them in amusement.“It’s a dragon thistle,” he says.“They’re from Dorne.Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“No,” Pod says, and both Jaime and Tyrion shake their heads.

“Hm,” Addam says, “I suppose it wasn’t like Lord Tywin to abide exotic produce.What about you, Brienne?”

“I’ve seen them at the market on Tarth,” she says, dimly conjuring up the sun-drenched stalls of her youth, “but I’ve never eaten one.”

“Yes, and how _does_ one eat such a thing?” Tyrion asks.

Pod is frowning and looks regretful.“I don’t know.I didn’t know it was sharp.I don’t fancy biting into it!”

Addam just laughs.“That’s certainly not how you eat it.”He reaches across the table and pulls at one of the scales — more like a leaf, really.“Here, like this.”

Brienne’s breath catches.She squirms minutely in her seat and looks to Jaime.He does nothing so vulgar as smile, his expression barely even changes at all, but she sees his throat work and she knows.

_She knelt astride him, trembling as she held him in her hands.Jaime peered up at her frowning face and asked, “What’s wrong?”_

_She grumbled and said, “I don’t know why I thought this would be easier.”She tried again, but…oh gods, was it not going to_ _fit_ _?_

_He brought his knees up, prodding her hips into a tilt and said, “Here, like this.”The angle suddenly aligned and the very end of him nudged inside._

_Her breath caught.“Oh,” Brienne said, and Jaime hummed agreement beneath her.It felt good, and it didn’t.She needed it to be either_ _more_ _or_ _less_ _, so she flexed her thighs and made to bear down on him, but it wasn’t the smooth slide she expected.She cried out and froze._

_“Does it hurt?” Jaime panted, throat working, but concerned nonetheless._

_“No,” she gasped.“I — yes — it — that’s the wrong question.”_

_“What’s the_ **_right_ ** _question?” he gritted out._

_She closed her eyes.“I don’t know.”Still gulping air, she shook her head and said, “Give me a moment.”She felt like she was teetering on the edge of something — be it delirium or panic or even joy — she had no way to say.It felt impossible to continue but she thought she might die if they stopped.It seemed like he might break her in two._

Brienne blinks and in front of her, Addam dips the leaf in some leftover sauce on his plate.There’s a fleshy bit down at the bottom, and he scrapes his teeth over it, smiling in satisfaction.

“Gods, it’s been ages since I’ve had one of these.”

Tyrion still looks dubious.“That seems like a lot of work for very little reward,” he says, but Pod eagerly follows Addam’s lead.

“Oh!”The look on his face is pleasant surprise.He elbows her.“You have to try it!You all should try it!”

She smiles.“All right.”The leaf pulls off easily and she swipes it through some buttery sauce.She uses her teeth, like Addam demonstrated, and her eyebrows shoot upward.“I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

Jaime’s eyes on her are hot, and as he follows her lead she gulps at the sight, thinking, _He used his teeth on my —_

Jaime is _flushed_ , and gods, she didn’t know that was possible.He clicks his tongue and says, “You know, I haven’t either,” and she is suddenly certain he doesn’t mean the food.

Perhaps it was a bad idea to have a meal with the others.

They somehow make it to the end of supper without making fools of themselves.She’s sure there are things that Addam and Tyrion pick up on, but that’s _Jaime’s_ problem, and one she is glad to leave in his care.Pod seems less likely to pry for details than to simply give her a congratulatory clap on the back.She’s certain she has the better end of the deal until they’re all getting ready to leave the table, and Lady Sansa approaches.

“Ser Brienne,” she says, “could you spare a few minutes?I’d like a word.”Brienne blanches and Jaime looks horrified.Sansa’s mouth twitches.“We should go over tomorrow’s schedule.I’ll need to get an early start.”

“Ah, yes, of course, Lady Sansa.I’ll meet you in your study in a few minutes.”

“Oh, come to my sitting room,” Sansa says over her shoulder as she walks away.“It will be more comfortable.”

The thought does not make Brienne feel comfortable at all.

She’s only able to steal a moment with Jaime, a quickly murmured, “I’ll meet you?” and a “Yes,” and then she sets off for Lady Sansa’s sitting room while Addam and Tyrion shamelessly drag Jaime off.

She realizes as she walks away that they hadn’t said where they’d meet.

+++

Lady Sansa shuts the door behind her and turns, and the look on her face tells Brienne that this is _not,_ after all, about tomorrow’s schedule.

“You’re all right?” she asks, her brow creased with concern.

“Of course,” Brienne says, feeling bewildered that Sansa seems _worried_ for her, over _Jaime_ of all people — and when did _Jaime Lannister_ start feeling safe?

Sansa’s face clears in relief and Brienne is reminded of her history, here in this castle that has always been her home, but has _not_ always been safe.

“Good.”Sansa nods decisively.“Do you need moon tea?”

Brienne’s eyes widen and she thinks —

_They were both drenched in sweat as Brienne braced her hands on his shoulders and moved at a breakneck pace.Jaime bucked beneath her, grabbed her hip and tried to urge her upward._

_“Brienne,” he gasped, “you need to stop, get off, I’m going to —“_

_“No,” she said fiercely, “_ **_inside_** _.”_

_“But —“_

_“I said —“_

_“We didn’t talk about this,” Jaime whined, and she could suddenly tell he didn’t have much longer.Her stomach swooped._

_“I’ll figure it out tomorrow!”_

_“Brienne, it_ **_is_ ** _tomorrow.”He made a sound like it_ **_hurt_ ** _to keep going._

 _“Jaime — Jaime, look at me.”His gaze snapped to hers and she took his face in one hand.“We’ll figure it out.I want you_ **_inside_** _,” she said.Her hand swept up to tug at his hair, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he gave in._

Brienne clears her throat.“Uh — yes.I suppose I do.”

Sansa sweeps past her, but not before Brienne sees the tiny smile on her face.She goes to the table and offers wine.Oh, why not?

“Traditionally you’d ask the maester, but I think if you said the words ‘moon tea’ to Sam he might keel over.”Sansa pours and thinks a moment.“Do you know Gilly?She’s Sam’s…um, Gilly?”

Brienne wonders if anyone will ever describe her as _Jaime’s, um, Brienne._ “I know who she is.”

“Ask her,” Sansa says.“She’ll either have some, or she’ll know where to get it.”

Brienne feels a sudden rush of gratitude at the reminder that she’s not the only one in the castle with an…unusual arrangement.Gilly was from north of the Wall but Sam was Lord Tarly’s son — he may even _be_ Lord Tarly at this point, for all Brienne knew — and if not fully a maester, he’d trained as one.For the maester of a great house to have a…Gilly…was _highly_ unusual.She’s not sure if this is deliberate on Sansa’s part, but she certainly wouldn’t put it past her.

Lady Sansa hands her a glass of wine.She settles in a comfortable chair in front of the fire and gestures Brienne into the other.Sansa sips at her own glass and looks wistfully into the fire.“Was it…nice?”

Brienne nearly inhales her wine.“ _Excuse_ me?”

Sansa smiles ruefully.“It’s _supposed_ to be nice.Or so I’ve heard.”

Slowly, Brienne nods in understanding.She looks away, her vision going hazy as she thinks how to answer.

 _Finally —_ **_finally_ ** _— she sat flush with him, and her breath hitched.“Brienne.Brienne look at me,” Jaime begged, and her eyes snapped open, locking with his._

 _“Gods, Brienne, your_ **_eyes_** _,” he groaned.He gripped her backside, holding her firmly against him as he used his right arm to drag them up the bed.He sat upright, close enough to rest his forehead against hers.He looked dazed, and Brienne thought of the first day she met him, how he’d bragged to Lady Catelyn that he’d never been with another woman._

_He ran his hand through her hair and pressed a lush kiss to her forehead, then kissed his way down her face — her eyebrow, the bridge of her nose, her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth.He was here with her, not with anyone else.They paused, breathing each other’s air for one moment before he sealed his mouth against hers.He stretched against her like a cat luxuriating in a beam of sun, and she moved in response, slowly rolling together.His hand rested in the dip of her back._

Lady Sansa laughs, and Brienne’s face flames.“Yes, uh, it was nice.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Sansa says.She waits until Brienne takes another drink, and her smile goes mischievous.“Does he have a nice cock?”

Brienne _does_ inhale her wine at that.“ _Sansa!_ ”

The lady — so-called! — dissolves into giggles, and Brienne is suddenly reminded how young she still is.“What?You said it was _nice!_ ”Brienne can only cough in response, but apparently that’s not enough for Sansa.“Well?”

“Uh…”Brienne is truly at a loss for words.

 _Brienne whined.“It feels…”It felt_ **_huge_** _, actually, but she wasn’t about to say that._

 _“It feels_ **_what_** _?” he panted._

_“It feels different!” she finally gasped out, and his chest rumbled with laughter in response._

_“What do you mean, Brienne?”His grin was wicked and his voice like gravel.“Do you mean that coming on my cock feels different than coming on my fingers?”_

_She was wrong before.He wasn’t going to break her in two.It was more like a thousand little pieces._

Brienne finally chokes out, “Um, no complaints.”

Sansa feigns a sulk.“You’re no fun.”

“No, Lady Sansa, I’m not known for being fun.”

Sansa laughs again.“You know, the first time he came to Winterfell — oh, I was such a stupid kid, I only had eyes for _Joffrey_ , ugh.“She rolls her eyes and Brienne is sure she’s masking something, but she continues blithely.“But even though I was just a girl and he was _way too old_ , Ser Jaime came riding into the yard in the summer sun, and he swung down from that horse and he was _so handsome_ , my heart skipped a beat.”

“ _Was_ handsome?”That is…not the way she would characterize Jaime.

“Oh, to be sure, he’s handsome enough now,” Sansa says confidently, “but you never saw him like _that_.”

“I saw him plenty in King’s Landing.”She’d thought him so beautiful to look at in King’s Landing, it sometimes hurt.

“Hm.I saw him in King’s Landing too.He was different.”

“Yes,” Brienne says drily.“He’d lost a hand.”

Sansa shakes her head.“That wasn’t the important thing that had changed, Brienne.”She gives her a significant look, and Brienne turns her head away.

She shrugs.“We both changed on that journey.”

Sansa sighs, and they sit in silence for a time.The fire crackles, and the wind whistles, and they sip their wine.When Sansa speaks again, she’s turned serious.“When he arrived here, you vouched for him.You said he was an honorable man.”

Brienne swallows.“Yes.” 

“I’ve never asked you about that.”

“No.”

Sansa meets her eyes.“I’m asking now.”

Brienne frowns.There’s so much to say, she wouldn’t know where to begin.“What _are_ you asking?”

Sansa makes a frustrated sound.“How can a man who’s known as the most notorious oath-breaker in the Seven Kingdoms be honorable enough for _you_?”Sansa shakes her head.“I don’t doubt that King Aerys deserved it, but…”She trails off, looking almost desperately at Brienne, clearly trying to understand.

Brienne frowns.She wishes Jaime hadn’t kept this a secret, but she can’t help but remember him that day, as aggrieved as she’d ever seen him. _What right does the wolf have to judge the lion?_ “That’s…not my story to tell,” she says slowly.So much is different now, but that at least remains true.

“But you have heard it?” Sansa leans forward, insistent on getting some sort of answer.

“Yes.And it’s not what it seems.”She cannot lie about this.She wishes everyone could see Jaime for what he really is.

Sansa sits back in her chair, perhaps not satisfied, but not pushing further.She looks at Brienne a long moment and then nods.“All right.Now, about tomorrow…”

Oh.Right, tomorrow.“Yes, my lady?”

Sansa shakes her head, snorting.“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t get you out of bed at daybreak.Would mid-morning do?”

“Of course, whatever you need, Lady Sansa.”

Sansa quirks an eyebrow, but all she says is, “Good night, Brienne.”

Brienne excuses herself and stands for a moment outside Sansa’s door, struck with indecision about where to go next.Should she try to go find Jaime?But she didn’t know where Tyrion and Addam whisked him off to, and she doesn’t fancy wandering around the drafty castle looking for him.She sets off for her own room, thinking that Jaime will probably come find her there.

But when she opens the door, she’s struck still with the sight of Jaime already lounging in her bed. 

He’s smiling at her, and his hand is riding low on his belly, idly stroking the skin there, suggesting more to come.Brienne steps inside and shuts the door.

“I presumed,” he says, and she laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1: Yeah, okay, so I guess this is a WIP now. I thought about posting the new chapter as a sequel but it really isn't able to stand on its own.
> 
> Note 2: I don't have some weird fetish for artichokes. I just needed something for Addam to demonstrate at the dinner table. If there was some feast on the show that clearly contained artichokes, I don't want to know...it's just a plot device. ;)
> 
> Note 3: I feel like it behooves me to explain what's going on with the bedroom scenes here.
> 
> I've read a number of stories recently that seem to perpetuate the trope - which I thought was true for YEARS! - that the "maidenhead" is some sort of internal barrier to be pushed through. In fact, it is not! The hymen is external! It's part of the vulva. *cue _The More You Know_ music*
> 
> So what's happening with Brienne? She's tense. That's it. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
> 
> (In all seriousness, there is a fantastic TED Talk on this topic which everyone should watch: https://www.ted.com/talks/nina_dolvik_brochmann_and_ellen_stokken_dahl_the_virginity_fraud)


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